


Sisters, Daughters, Mothers

by Vivien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivien/pseuds/Vivien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of vignettes featuring a few of the female characters I always wondered about as a kid reading the appendices and genealogy tables. Arwen's story borrows a little from movie-canon, but everything else is aligned to Tolkien's words and histories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sisters, Daughters, Mothers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madam_ypsilon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madam_ypsilon/gifts).



Light and warmth infused the bedchamber. Oh, there was some pain - the reality of flesh incarnate - but mostly there was light and warmth as the world centered in on the bundle in Galadriel’s arms.

Her newborn daughter, swaddled in wool so soft it could be a cloud atop a mountain, was the most perfect creature she could imagine.

“Celebrian,” she murmured. “My dearest one.”

The baby’s eyes blinked open, fluttering in the light and then closing. 

Galadriel laughed. “It will not always seem so wearying to open your eyes, little love.” She caressed the baby’s soft cheek and smiled. 

This was perfection. This was a moment more precious than a Simaril. 

~~~ 

Arwen rode ahead of her brothers, cresting a hill, hoping to catch one last glimpse of sail as her mother went on to the West. Her tears had dried, but if more were to come, so be it. She turned her horse, and she stared out towards the sea. She thought she could make out the hint of a sail.

They’d stayed at the Grey Havens a long time, watching their mother sail away. Celebrian had never healed after her cruel imprisonment at the mercy of the Orcs. Her wounds were beyond what their father Elrond could heal, beyond what even Galadriel could repair.

Elladan and Elrohir drew up to Arwen and watched with her for a time. Their father, Galadriel, and Celeborn were staying with Cirdan for a night, perhaps longer, and the siblings chose to begin their journey to Rivendell ahead of their elders.

Arwen’s tears streamed down a furious face. “The next time you go hunting for orcs, I shall go with you.”

Elrohir glanced at Elladan. “Sister, you wield neither sword nor bow.”

“Then you will train me, and I shall go.”

After a moment, Elladan nodded his head. “And so you shall.”

~~~

If only she could hear the sea, Finduilas thought, dying would be so much easier. She knew her time would come soon after this too long withering. Her bones ached under her thin skin, and every breath was a fight against the very air she drew into her lungs.

“My lady,” said Ioreth from her bedside. “I have a plaster for you. It will help.”

Finduilas turned her head towards the older woman. “Will it?” 

“Aye, it will,” Ioreth said, smoothing the pungent cream over her chest. “And the tincture of poppy will help even more.”

“Thank you,” she rasped. “I think- I think my lord should be summoned.”

Ioreth paused, placing her hand gently on the dying woman’s forehead. “Yes, my lady.”

She left, for how long Finduilas could not track, and when she returned, Denethor, his face stern and unmoved, strode through the door.

“Leave us,” he said, gruff. Ioreth bowed and did as commanded. 

Once the door clicked closed, Denethor’s face crumbled. He rushed to her bed and collapsed upon it, resting his head on her pillow, nuzzling his head into the side of her neck. “Do not leave me,” he croaked, gasping around the tears that broke his stoic demeanor. 

“Oh, my lord, I think that I must,” she sighed, reaching for his hand. “I do not wish to go.”

“Then don’t. I’ll send for better healers, for- for that wizard. Surely he could do something.”

“Nay, my love, it is for naught.”

Finduilas felt her husband’s tears, hot and wet against her skin. He was unshaven, the only outward sign of his internal struggle that anyone outside their bedchamber would ever see.

“You must care for the boys. Both of them. You must promise me.” 

His voice was a snarl. “This is all Faramir’s fault. Had he not caught the Lung Fever playing with those urchins-“

“-Then another fever would have come for me. You know I’m not a strong woman.”

“You are. The strongest, dearest…”

Her husband loved her. In private and quietly and in his own way, but he loved her with a ferociousness that sometimes tired her. It wouldn’t matter soon.

She could hear the waves. The gulls were crying overhead, and she was going home.

~~~  
Morwen was an old woman. Too old for this news,. Too old indeed. She climbed the stairs with heavy heart and heavy feet to her granddaughter’s nursery. Éowyn was faunching at the bit to leave the nursery, to ride her pony all day as her brother did, she knew. Aye, well, there would be many days to ride ponies for her granddaughter, who looked so much like her mother, Morwen's little girl. Morwen sighed. Such sadness on a beautiful day. 

“Grandmother, grandmother!” Éowyn cried when the door opened. Her governess curtsied, and Morwen dismissed her. 

“Éowyn, my dear girl, come to me.” She held her arms open and the little girl embraced her, laughing. 

“Can we go riding?”

“Not right now, lumpkin, not right now. I have to speak with you.” She led her to a padded window bench, looking out onto the green fields where herds of horses grazed.

“About what?” Éowyn clambered beside her, her chin on the windowsill, watching the horses.

“You know that your mother has been very sick of late.”

Éowyn nodded and turned her head to her grandmother.

“She died, Éowyn. Your mother is gone.”

“Gone? Like on a long ride?”

“No, not like that. Her spirit is gone, and it will never come back to us. We will bury her body in the grave mounds where all of our mothers and fathers lay, and we will sing the grave songs. She will never come back. I am so sorry.”

Éowyn said nothing for a moment. “Does Éomund know? And Father?” 

“Your father knows, but Éomund is out with Harmeld. Either your father or I shall tell him upon his return.”

“No, Grandmother, I must tell him. He’ll be very sad, too. We’ll be sad together.”

Morwen scooped her into a hug. “Very well.”

“Will you teach me a grave song? I want to sing for my mother.”

Morwen wiped away the tears from her eyes. “Of course, Éowyn. I shall teach you every one I know.”

~~~  
Esmeralda Took Brandybuck had waited beyond all hoping for this day. The messengers had only just arrived, running nonstop from the ferry to Brandy Hall to let their lord, Merry’s father, know the long lost party of hobbits had crossed the bridge in glorious defiance of Sharkey’s men.

She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and scratched out a note to her brother, Paladin, Thain of Tookland. Pippin was counted as part of the party, to her great delight and relief.

She knew – she knew – that the boys’ story would not end as Great Uncle Hildefons’ had - gone to sea and never returned. They were back. They were home.

Her son and her nephew had come home.

“Doderic,” she called, sealing the note with dripping wax and her stamp, “Doderic, you must get this to my brother at Took Hall as soon as you can.”

The messenger nodded his head, worry battling with elation. “I shall do my best.”

“Stick to the shadows,” she said, thrusting the letter into his hand along with a few coins. “But of course, you know that. You’re our most faithful and trusted herald. Make haste. This is news for the Tooks alone.”

He bowed to her and turned on heel, running down the passageway to a hidden exit.

Esmeralda beamed, lifted up her skirts, and hurried to find her husband. They’d be preparing the Hall for whatever may come next, and her place was beside him. Hope shone in her eyes. Oh, would Meriadoc hear a scolding from his mother soon. A scolding between the hugs and the welcomes. Oh, yes, what a wonderful day.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic for Sisters, Daughters, Mothers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9958976) by [Vivien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivien/pseuds/Vivien)




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